I wait for you
by naoto-san
Summary: "Nathan..." Max managed to croak out. He flinched when she said his name and lowered his eyes. Nathan was here. In the dark room. Everything was a mess, nothing made sense. She had never thought it would end like this. All she knew was that Nathan was here and he didn't look dangerous. She felt stupid for thinking it but maybe, just maybe he would help her, save her even. Caulscott


Author's note: My first life is strange fic and it's caulscott! Welcome and enjoy! Jefferson is in the beginning but stick it out and you shall be rewarded.

* * *

 **I wait for you**

Her eyes darted under her eyelids. Slowly getting her consciousness back she tried to move her hands and feet only to realize that they wouldn't budge. She was tied and laid haphazardly on her side, the cold of the floor on her naked skin made her shiver.

What was going on? Where was she? Why was she tied?

Her head was racing as she tried to frantically remember what had happened. She struggled to open her eyes, managing half way before they fluttered close again. They felt heavy and grainy as if she'd been out drinking until the early hours of day. A groan left her lips as she shifted on the floor. She could hear someone in the room with her. Glass clinking. A bottle pouring something. Light footsteps moving about. The creak of a sofa.

She tried to speak but all that left her lips was a soft, pained whimper. Her throat protested and she coughed, making her dry throat sore.

The creaking of the sofa intensified as the person moved on it, together with the sound of glass on glass. A glass being put on a glass table she realized. She forcefully pulled air into her lungs, everything felt heavy. Even her breathing felt like it was in slow-motion. The person on the sofa settled down and relaxed once more. She heard the sound of the glass being lifted and put back down repeatedly, she didn't know for how long. The rustle of paper accompanying it.

She had to see who it was, where she was and why this person left her on the floor, bound. Her eyes slid open. The bright lights of the room momentarily blinded her but eventually she managed to open them completely. As her eyes adjusted to the lights she wished she'd never opened them. She was in the dark room! Right at the spot where Kate and Rachel had been, in front of the camera, all set up for her picture to be taken. Her clothes were gone and she was left in nothing but her cotton panties. This would have been embarrassing if it wasn't for the fact that she was thoroughly scared shitless. She was in the dark room. She was one of the red folder girls now.

She scanned her eyes over the room, frantically looking for anything to make the situation less dire. Anything or anyone. To her outmost disappointment the only thing she saw was the cold tile floor, the expensive camera equipment and as she moved her eyes she saw the expensive leather sofa right in front of her with a matching table. On the sofa was the last person she wanted to see. Mr. Jefferson. He wore his usual suit, the jacket hanged over the sofa and his crisp white shirt rolled up to just under his elbows. He looked casual, at ease and in other circumstances Max would probably have found him attractive. He took a long swipe from his whiskey glass and put it back down with a clink. Then he looked at her and their eyes met.

Max felt her heart freeze. Her before tired, dulled eyes were wide open and attentive now. She was afraid. She was in fact so scared that she couldn't move, couldn't speak and she couldn't break eye contact. Mr. Jefferson's eyes were cold, indifferent and amused. A tinge of something else, something ominous was there as well and it scared her, it paralyzed her with fear. She felt her eyes prick with unshed tears whether it was from fear or lack of blinking mattered little to her. Just as she thought that she would scream, her lips actually parting, curving downwards into the beginning of a terrified grimace, he smiled. A calm, casual smile, a smile she'd seen many times in school. It was the same smile that usually left her reassured and with a warm feeling in the pit of her stomach. This normal, casual smile was directed at her and Mr. Jefferson's eyes crinkled. Her stomach lurched and she felt a shiver run down her spine. She felt cold to the very bone and her scream died in her throat, her lips stayed parted and trembled.

"You're awake." He said as if she'd just taken a nap.

As if she actually hadn't been drugged and forcefully brought to a cold ass bunker filled with animosity and death. As if she wasn't bound by her wrists and ankles lying on the floor ready for him to shoot his grotesque pictures of her. As if she didn't fear for her life at this very moment and wondered like crazy what exactly he did, more than taking pictures, to all the girls he took here.

He chuckled lowly to himself as he broke their intense eye contact, rising from the sofa with a creak of the leather, bringing his glass of whiskey with him. He took a few steps towards her while casually turning the liquid in his glass.

"This wasn't exactly according to my plan Max." He said matter-of-factly and squatted down in front of her, his elbows resting on his knees, legs spread wide.

He looked into his glass as he turned the liquid around. A plaintive sigh left his lips as his hand rubbed over his face until he lowered it and looked down into Max's eyes once more.

"What were you thinking Max? You have such potential and now that'll go to waste, all because of Miss Price's obsession over her dear friend Rachel." He said.

Max felt her lips tremble, her eyes burned and she swallowed hard, a vain attempt to moisture her throat.

Mr. Jefferson sighed again and raised his free hand to brush some strands of hair out of her face, caressing her cheek while doing so. She flinched and cried out, a broken pathetic excuse of a cry that only made Mr. Jefferson laugh. His hand traveled behind her neck grasping the back of her head gently and pushed it up slightly. As the glass of whiskey met her trembling lips he tried to pour some of it down her throat.

She clamped her mouth shut, pressing her lips together tightly. Muffled noises of discomfort and objection left her and the gentle, caressing hand on the back of her head gripped her tightly, pulling at her hair. Her lips opened in a startled cry and the bitter drink was forced down her dry throat.

"There, there, Max. It'll be alright, you're my precious student after all." Mr. Jefferson cooed soothingly with a wicked smile playing on his lips.

Max choked and coughed on the whiskey. Her throat didn't need the bitter taste of alcohol, it only made it drier and her voice came out raspy when she spoke.

"Why…why are you doing this? Where's…where's…" she whispered, her words dying on her lips as the memory of Chloe falling to the ground, bullet to the forehead and shocked dead eyes came crashing back to her.

A choked sob left her as the memory repeated itself in her head. A few tears trickled down over the bridge of her nose falling sideways down to the floor. Chloe was dead. She was dead and she couldn't rewind that far back, could she? She tried to muster her power, to travel back and fix things. But nothing happened. She was still lying on the floor with Mr. Jefferson hovering over her. His hand wiped at her eyes as he softly spoke sweet nothings to her.

She cried out and jerked her head away from him, screaming and tried in vain to kick with her bound feet. Mr. Jefferson sighed tiresomely and rose to his feet. He moved towards the glass desk with the computer containing horrible photographs of exploited girls. Girls that had been in the same position that Max was in now. The knowledge of what Mr. Jefferson did. What he was capable of and the fact that Max, just like Rachel, was now fully aware of what was happening made her sick to her stomach. She knew she was captive. She knew she was in danger. She knew what would become of her. It made it so much worse and the fact that her powers decided that this moment was as great as any to not work made Max fury and despair even stronger.

Slowly Max's screams died out and her tears stopped for a moment. What was the point in crying and screaming anyway? She was in a bunker. There was no one else around but her and the culprit of this whole mess. Said culprit stood by the desk, arranging a new red folder, she knew it to be knew since the pages where white and unmarked by hideous pictures. On the side of it she read out a name that made her whimper despite herself:

" _Maxine Caulfield."_

It said Maxine. Her name was on the folder and she knew all too well what it meant.

Mr. Jefferson closed _her_ file and turned to look at her. He took another swig of the bitter alcohol that he had previously forced down Max's poor throat. He put the glass down on the desk and moved away from it, casually sauntering through the room.

"Max. Max, Max, Max." He cooed his arms gesturing leisurely in the air as he walked. "It is a shame that this had to happen. You should have put your work out there when you had the chance." He said pointing a lazy finger in her direction.

Max stared back at him and followed his movements with cautious, frightened eyes.

"Please…" She whimpered as she watched him move towards the table, reaching for a syringe and a bottle filled with god knows what.

"Don't do this." She continued her voice cracking.

Mr. Jefferson ignored her and silently filled the syringe with the liquid. His eyes darted to watch her while doing so. His lips twitched into a sadistic smile as he started moving towards her, needle in hand.

Max whimpered. Tears were prickling her eyes again but refused to fall. She watched Mr. Jefferson walk up to her his eyes cold and filled with mirth. Her eyes pleaded with him although she knew just by looking into his eyes that it was in vain. Her lips parted to plead once more for his mercy, but the words died in her throat and she closed them again with a small sob.

"Don't worry Max. You can trust me, it won't hurt." He said with a warm smile.

He grabbed her arm and twisted her body so her face was pushed towards the floor. She tried desperately to free herself and escape the prick of the needle. All in vain it proved. She sobbed into the white paper on-top of the cold tiles as she felt the needle sink into her skin, into her muscle and the pain of several milliliters of fluid being pushed in met her.

"It will be okay Max. You're a beautiful girl. The shots will be amazing." Mr. Jefferson cooed her as she whimpered and gradually became silent as he rubbed her arm where the needle had gone in.

His words where muffled to her, the drugs taking effect immediately. Her vision started to become blurry. Her breathing turned slightly ragged and uneven. As she watched Mr. Jefferson's blurred silhouette move away from her she felt her consciousness slip away, her eyes closed. A flash met her when they opened again, bright lights burned down on her, blinding her. She flinched but when she tried to move her body wouldn't cooperate. Her arms felt like lead and her eyelids too. When the next flash hit her she was already gone.

* * *

When her eyes opened again the camera spotlights where turned off and the flashes had stopped. Her drowsy eyes moved around to relocate herself. She moved slightly but her limbs were still heavy and her wrists hurt from the tightness of her restrains.

Something out of the corner of her eyes caught her attention. She tried to snap her head in the direction but instead her head moved sluggishly and painfully. She ended up in an awkward position twisting her body as much as she could to give her a better view of what she was looking at.

There resting by the wall, crouched down with his knees to his chest and his head hung low was Nathan Prescott. His hair was messy and his clothes were in disarray. His beaten face was solemn and his eyes as far as she could see looked red and puffy. She tried to speak but her voice cracked and a small cough left her lips instead. Nathan's head snapped up at that his eyes falling on her immediately.

"Nathan..." Max managed to croak out.

He flinched when she said his name and lowered his eyes. Nathan was here. Max didn't know how to feel about that. She had gotten so used to hating him and blaming him for all of this. Rightfully so she had thought since all the evidence where pointing to him. Now she didn't know what to believe. Ever since Mr. Jefferson had sneaked up on her and Chloe, things had stopped making sense to her. She had completely lost control over the entire situation. She had known what she and Chloe did was or at least could be dangerous. But she had never thought it would end like this, Chloe dead and Max captive in the very room that Rachel most likely had been murdered in.

A shiver ran down her spine yet again and she sobbed, never taking her eyes off of Nathan. The young man that she had thought to be the one to potentially do something like this to her turned out to be a pawn. Her muddled brain couldn't wrap her head around any of this. All she knew was that Nathan was here and he didn't look dangerous. He didn't look like a sadistic pig that wanted to exploit her, almost entirely naked body, for his sick fantasies or for some misplaced version of creativity. She felt stupid for thinking it but maybe, just maybe he would help her, save her even. It was naïve she knew but what else did she have to hope for. She felt her eyelids begin to close so she forced them open.

She couldn't fall asleep now.

"Nathan!" She repeated herself, this time louder and with urgency in her voice.

He looked up and met her eyes. He looked nervous and dared she believe it… guilty? Despite herself she felt a small flare of hope begin to spark within her. Her eyes bore into his urgently. Her desperation must have been apparent in her eyes because Nathan flinched slightly averting his eyes momentarily from hers.

She licked her lips and strained her neck and body into her awkward position, fooling herself that she came closer to her potential lifeline.

"Please…Nathan…you can help me out!" she pleaded, cringing at how hollow her words sounded not to mention how weak and vulnerable it made her feel to plead Nathan motherfucking Prescott for help.

Nathan shuffled awkwardly in his position, his eyes darting cautiously towards the opening towards the stockpiles in the adjoining room of the bunker. Max followed his gaze and realized to her outmost relief that Mr. Jefferson was nowhere to be seen.

"He's gone isn't he? He left? We…we can leave together. Nathan!" She pleaded once more her tone pitched in desperation.

He abruptly moved from his position to hover over her, his eyes full of pent up rage. She flinched back. Maybe she had spoken too soon.

"Shut up, bitch!" Nathan snarled at her.

She felt her hopes crumble and fade inside her. That was until she saw his hands. They were shaking and when she looked back up into his eyes she saw fear there. Nathan was afraid of Mr. Jefferson. She felt her hope spike again. Maybe, just maybe she had a way out.

Before she could say anything Nathan sighed and cursed out loud, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. He sat down in front of her his knee bouncing in an awkward angle and he didn't seem to be able to stop wringing his shaking hands together. His eyes darted over the room, looking behind him repeatedly. When he looked back at her his eyes traveled awkwardly over her naked body, his eyes lingering on her exposed breasts. She shuffled and felt a blush creep over her cheeks at the attention and he noticed. His eyes lowered and he rubbed his hand over his mouth, audibly swallowing hard.

"Fuck you Caulfield. You fucking nosy cunt!" He berated her all the while wringing his hands together nervously.

His eyes kept darting back over her body and every time his gaze lingered on her small chest. He wetted his lips when his eyes appreciated the curve of her breasts. A tinge of pink covered his cheeks in a flustered blush.

Max didn't know how to respond, once again the situation proved to be out of her hands. At least with Nathan it stayed awkward and didn't wander to be downright frightening. What should she say or do in this situation? Her mouth opened and closed as Nathan kept watching her and the plastic curtains to the other room. She was embarrassed, the way he looked at her sent chills down her spine but not in a bad way and that thought alone frightened her. She needed to get out of here. Who knew when Mr. Jefferson would be back? Her eyelids kept dropping and her limbs still felt heavy as fuck.

"Nathan…" she tentatively began, averting her eyes from his.

He abruptly broke her off sneering at her while grabbing her chin. Her blood ran cold as she stared into his angered eyes.

"Didn't I tell you to shut up?" He said his voice dangerously low. "You had no idea what you walked right into, did you? I tried to tell you! You had no fucking clue! But you wouldn't stop getting your nose into everyone else's business, would you? I fucking _tried_!"

He kept berating her. His voice rising spit was flying in her face as his voice became forced and uneven. His eyes bugging like a crazy person. The sad part of it all was that he was right. She hadn't known. She thought she had, she thought she had everything under control and even if she didn't she thought she could rewind and change it. She thought she had the upper hand, that she and Chloe could save the day and do anything. Instead it turned out to be the opposite: Max fucking Caulfield the naïve bitch that couldn't do anything right.

Her eyes clouded over with remorse and guilt. Tears once again prickled her eyes but she refused to let in to the despair of the situation. Instead she stared Nathan down refusing to back down. No matter what, she knew she had handled things and people with respect and decency. She had been kind and she'd tried to and she _had_ helped! No matter how her situation turned out she had been a good person through it all.

Nathan laughed bitterly his eyes lacked any sense of humor and his grip on her chin tightened.

"Don't you get it?" He whispered discouraged "He'll kill you…"

His eyes shone of remorse and guilt, the grip on her chin lessened and turned more into a caress. Compared to Mr. Jefferson's touch it was a welcoming embrace of social contact. If it hadn't been for his solemn words she'd probably have closed her eyes and leaned in to his touch.

"Then help me…" Max whispered her voice cracking.

Nathan released her and his eyes once again lingered on her chest. He shook his head and seemingly made up his mind. He took off his red jacket and put it over Max's body covering most of her, except her thighs and legs.

"…I can't do that." He said quietly as he stood up to leave.

Max felt her heart quicken when the warmth of his jacket enveloped her attacking her nostrils with Nathan's cologne and whatever natural scent he had. It was intoxicating and she felt her stomach lurch in both dread and uncomfortably enough excitement. When his words registered in her dulled brain Nathan was already half way across the room. Her heavy eyelids snapped open again. She refused to fall asleep.

"Nathan wait!" She cried desperately.

He stopped in his tracks, his body tense and his head was half way facing her.

"Please…please don't go Nathan." Max sobbed pathetically, her hope dwindling with every step Nathan took away from her.

His head turned ever so slightly towards her and then he froze. His eyes never met hers and he briskly walked away disappearing through the plastic curtains. Max's hope crushed and she screamed a broken cry after his retreating back. She screamed profanities and hateful comments. About how Nathan would never redeem himself. That he was the scum of the earth. That he had killed Rachel and that he had made Kate almost kill herself. That he was to blame for Chloe's death. That she would never trust him and she would never ever, ever, ever forgive him.

"I hate you Nathan! Kill me yourself you fucking coward!" She screamed.

Her throat protesting against her and her coughing fit took the last of her energy as she felt her eyelids finally drop and her conscious faded away once more. Before she fell into an unruly sleep she heard muffled sounds from the other room.

It sounded like someone choking back tears.

* * *

The shrill echo of the gunshot penetrated Max's ears. Her best friend's face scrunched up in shock and a hint of fear. Max saw it as if in slow motion. Chloe's body ricocheted backwards from the force, blood oozing out of the small bullet hole in her forehead as she fell. Max tried to scream, to intervene, to move! But her limbs stayed still and her mouth couldn't utter a word. Her breath was taken from her and she tried to draw it back in. She didn't manage. Something was clogging up her throat, her airways. It was wet and strangely thick. She felt panic rising within her, her head spinning. She gasped for air but instead she only drew in the strange, thick fluid further down her throat, towards her lungs.

The junkyard blurred and vanished, with it Chloe's dead body and Rachel's makeshift grave. Her half lidded eyes met crisp white walls and sterile environment. Hands were on her body, forcing her over to her side, cupping her chin from behind to help her vomit to the side and keep her from choking on her own puke.

"Shit. Fucking shit! Come on Max, breath!" She heard Nathan's voice speak loudly and breathlessly.

Her eyes adjusted to the lights and her blurred vision cleared itself to reveal that she was still in the dark room. Still bound, her hands to her back and her ankles tightly wrapped together. She coughed and gasped loudly, gulping in air now that her airways were clear. Nathan's hand rubbed her arm and shoulder and moved to brush hair out of Max's face. His hands were shaking slightly and moved hurriedly. She felt his forehead against her ear, his breath ghosting over her shoulder and his lips quivering against it as he let out a relieved sigh.

"Fuck…you're okay….she's okay….she's okay…" Nathan whispered repeatedly against her shoulder.

His hand was resting over her stomach keeping her body close to his and upright. The other was still supporting her head, letting it rest on his hand rather than the cold floor. His thumb caressed her cheek absentmindedly.

As Max's breath evened out she felt Nathan relax, his shaking subsided and his breath ghosted calmly over her skin. Nathan's jacket had fallen down Max's body revealing most of her naked chest and belly. The cold air hit her skin and she shivered, all too well aware of Nathan's close proximity, his warm breath and the ghost of his lips on her shoulder. The realization of her exposed body and Nathan's touch made her quiver for another reason entirely.

Finally Nathan lifted his head and his hand moved to loosely hold her arm instead of her exposed belly. His fingers caressed her skin unintentionally and her body shivered at the touch. Max felt how he tentatively dragged her body away from the mess she'd made and turned her slightly on to her back. Their eyes met briefly as Nathan looked her over. Once again he sighed in relief to see her face a confirmation that she was in fact, fine.

Max flinched when he raised his hand towards her face making him freeze in his movement. She almost regretted it when a look of hurt flashed across his face, but it was quickly replaced with a sneer. His hand reached to her face, brushing the side of her mouth and cheek to wipe away some vomit. He cleared his hand on the paper on the floor and wiped once more over her lips and cheek, repeating the process. His eyes followed the movement of his hand and lingered on her lips. Max couldn't help but blush at his soft ministrations. She watched his face and eyes despite herself and marveled in the unsettling calm and tenderness in them. It was unnerving that he looked at her with what could only be explained as warmth and care. When their eyes met she noticed a spark in them that both terrified and excited her. Her stomach making a flip that she wasn't expecting nor wanted and she felt her lips tremble against his thumb. Her eyes must have given her contradicting feelings away because Nathan's eyes hardened and he pulled his hand away to put her back down on the floor.

As he moved away from her he bent over once more, as if in afterthought, and moved his jacket back over her now entirely shivering body. His eyes darted towards hers again a nervous, worried glint in them she noticed but it didn't make her feel any better.

She had almost died. She had choked on her own vomit without any way to fend for herself with her arms and legs bound. If it hadn't been for Nathan she would have been dead now. The thought and experience of it made her chest tighten and she sobbed out loud. Tears started to form in her eyes once again. This was all too much for her. Everything went wrong and she had no way out. She was going to die regardless. A snotty sob left her and she curled up as best she could and started sobbing into her knees.

"I'm gonna die." She cried tears flowing freely.

She felt Nathan move awkwardly behind her, his knee nudging her back as he did. He cleared his throat as if he were to say something but sighed instead. All the while Max's body kept shaking as her loud sobs shook her body mercilessly.

"Max. Come on…don't…hey!" Nathan said awkwardly obviously at a loss of what to do.

His hand came back to rest on her shoulders again and he lifted her body towards him, shaking her as he did. His eyes were hard but uncertain and frightened. How had she thought she could depend on Nathan Prescott to get her out of here, she was doomed. Dead. No turning back for Mad Max. It was over. They stared at each other and Max eyes flowed with tears and her body shook violently.

"Hey…" Nathan said quietly, his voice cracking and pitching high at places. "Don't cry Max…" he continued lamely.

His hand rested on her wet cheek brushing tears away with his thumb. They stayed like that for a while. Nathan kept brushing Max's tears away and used the sleeve of his cardigan to wipe her nose. At a more violent sob from Max he wiped a string of saliva from her chin and lips. When Max's sobs started to quiet down Nathan's eyes glossed over, his words of insignificant encouragement broke off into a choked sob and he started crying over Max's face. His face scrunched together in a grimace and his sobs echoed against the concrete walls.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry…please…I'm sorry…" His sobs were mixed with his choked pleads for forgiveness.

Before Max knew it Nathan had lowered his head into the crook of her neck crying and sobbing against her, uttering his outmost self-reproach and guilt to her. She felt her own eyes tear up again in sympathy for the broken young man holding her. She tried instinctively to move her hands to wrap her arms around his neck, but naturally they wouldn't budge and she only ended up straining her shoulders unnaturally until it hurt. Instead she tried to press herself as much as she could against Nathan's body, burying her face into his shoulder, sobbing with him.

"Help me…take me out of her. Please Nathan, please!" Max pleaded between sobs.

Nathan gripped her tighter and he stopped crying abruptly but he didn't let her go. Max felt fear grip her heart. After all Nathan was severely mentally ill, she _knew_ he had serious problems. He was downright dangerous at times and she didn't know how he would react. Had she pushed her luck?

She felt Nathan's grip loosen and he moved to look her in the eye, as he did Max tried desperately to mask her fear and dreadful anticipation. When their eyes met Max felt her heart skip a beat at the sight of Nathan's beaten face, his swollen eyes and red nose. He averted his eyes and lowered his head slightly. Max realized with a blush that Nathan's jacket was open and revealed her naked chest right in front of him. He didn't seem to notice though, or he didn't care because he simply stared unseeingly at her chest, seemingly deep in thought. When he looked up Max felt her breath leave her lungs and she held it, his eyes were nervous, fearful. He was clearly in a disarray of conflicting emotions and inner turmoil but something, a small spark of determination made Max heart stop in anticipation.

Before she could think or say anything Nathan abruptly rose to his feet, letting go of Max and she fell harshly to the floor. She gasped and her heart sunk in her chest. Was he going to leave? Without her? She was just about to scream after him when she heard shuffling from the adjoining room and then Nathan's rushed footsteps coming back towards her. He kneeled behind her, grabbing her wrists and started cutting at the duct tape wrapped around them.

Max had never felt such a sense of relief. Not even when she came back from the alternate timeline and she saw her best friend, healthy, blue haired and punk rock to the core sitting by her desk and tapping away on her keyboard. The bindings on her wrists came off and Nathan hurriedly ripped the tape off. Max slowly but gratefully moved her arms in front of her whimpering in pain as she did, rubbing her wrists and shoulders and slightly covered her naked chest now that she had the chance.

Nathan had already moved on to her ankles, cutting frantically at the tape, throwing cautious glances towards the plastic curtains. Max looked at him with elated, tired eyes. She watched him as he worked, bringing herself slowly and painfully up into a sitting position to help him work on her bound feet. He threw a cautious, yet worried look at her when she did and quickly averted his eyes when Max smiled broadly at him. His face flushed pink and he cleared his throat harshly, focusing entirely on her bindings after that.

Soon enough Max was free and Nathan helped her up. Her sore limbs didn't carry her weight and she ended up leaning on Nathan for support. As they moved through the plastic curtain Max noticed her bag and clothes lying next to the sink. She pushed Nathan lightly in the chest and pointed towards them. She opened her mouth to speak but Nathan got her request and quickly gathered her things.

They moved as fast as they could, Nathan practically carrying Max that was leaning heavily on him. They rushed up the stairs, into the barn and out to the cold, windy, early morning outside. The wind threw itself mercilessly against Max's bare skin, gravel from the dirt road up ahead whipped her and stones bore into her bare feet.

Nathan kept going, dragging Max with him towards the dirt road. Her stomach dropped at the thought that maybe he had come with Mr. Jefferson and didn't have a car. They would never make it by foot. Just as she was about to voice her concern she saw Nathan's red pickup parked partially hidden by some bushes and trees.

Max let out a sigh of relief. Nathan just dragged her along seemingly unaware of her worried inner dialogue. He pulled the passenger door open and forcefully pushed Max inside. He helped her gather her legs into the car once he realized they still didn't follow her lead entirely. She followed him with her eyes when he rushed around the car and jumped in. He put the keys in the engine and started the car speeding off with screeching wheels.

Max couldn't believe it. She was in Nathan's car. They were leaving the bunker, the dark room and everything that had happened and would have happened to her behind. The thought that this might have been a ruse, that this was all according to some twisted mind game Mr. Jefferson had conducted, filled her momentarily with dread. She glanced sideways at Nathan who was gripping the wheel tightly with both hands. His eyes darted over the road and the back mirror anxiously. His tongue darted out frequently to wet his dry lips and his breath was short and uneven.

No. This was real. Nathan had actually decided to help her. To save her. Max felt her chest tighten at the thought and her head raced. She had escaped death. Her eyes burned as she felt the all too familiar feeling of sorrow come over her. She had escaped death but she had failed Chloe. Her tired body ached and her brain was a muddled mess. Nathan must have heard her ragged breathing because he looked over at her and froze when he saw her teary eyes and shaking hands.

"Max…?" He asked tentatively and reached his hand over towards her.

Before either of them realized what had happened Max had grabbed Nathan's outstretched hand and curled up into a ball around it, sobbing violently into his hand and wrist. Nathan's eyes bulged out and the car swayed dangerously when he jerked violently as a reaction to the situation. He was cut off in his rather harsh and startled questioning by Max's voice.

"Thank you! Thank you Nathan! Thank you so, so, so much!" She said her voice muffled by his hand.

Her warm breath on his hand wasn't the only thing that made Nathan's breath hitch in his throat. Whatever berating he had planned on showering Max with died on his lips. He didn't have anything to say, his mind drew a complete blank and instead he chose to squeeze her hand tightly as a response. His eyes clouded with his own gratitude that he never would be able to fully convey to her. They stayed that way until they reached the dorms at Blackwell academy, Max quietly sobbing and Nathan squeezing her hand while focusing on the road through his own blurred eyes.

* * *

She felt warm and safe. A familiar smell filled her nostrils. A smell that she knew she'd encountered before. It made her stomach flip enthusiastically and her heart skipped a happy beat. She drew a content, deep sigh filling her nose with the intoxicating, familiar scent. Where was she and what was this smell? Rather whose smell was this?

Her head scrambled to collect itself and bit by bit it put the pieces back together. Her heart sank like a stone sinking to the ocean floor. Everything that shouldn't have gone wrong had. Rachel was dead. Her best friend was dead and she had been captured by none other than her precious teacher Mr. Jefferson. Her eyes shot open immediately and she sat up abruptly scanning the room she was in.

She was met by a dark room with black and white images of, in her honest opinion, creepy motives. A projector was running showcasing black and white images, creating hotness in the room that was barely tolerable. She knew where she was. The ridiculously large, albeit impressive, dvd and book collection of mainly violent nature was displayed in front of her. The black leather sofa that must have cost a fortune, because she was pretty sure it was of Danish motherfucking design and that shit didn't come cheap, was situated underneath the canvas of the projector. The sound of whale song washed calmly into her ears as she let her eyes wander over the, in hindsight, exquisite room.

This was Nathan's room.

Someone moved next to her, making the bedlinens rustle and a content sigh escaped them. Before she could move her head to see who it was, even though her brain had a fairly good idea, an arm reached out and laid itself over her upper hip and lower stomach making her fall back against the bed slightly. Her head snapped over to view Nathan lying next to her, sound asleep.

The air in her lungs was kicked out and she gasped breathlessly. Her eyes lingered on Nathan's face lying right in front of her in what should be way to close for comfort. As he scooted closer pressing her body against his she squirmed wondering how she'd wiggle out of his grasp. And yet she stayed put, watching his calm sleeping features. His fingers caressed her hip bone as he mumbled something incoherent in his sleep.

He looked peaceful and Max felt her heart flutter, her cheeks gaining a pink hue as her eyes wandered over Nathan's serene face, lingering dangerously long at his lips. She licked her own and unconsciously brought her face closer to his. As she did her head turned in a slightly better angle. She could feel his breath on her lips, mingling with hers and their lips barely touching as she moved ever so slightly closer. His breath hitched in his sleep and his tongue darted out to wet his own lips. As they did she felt his tongue on her upper lip, ghosting over it and she gasped, jerking her head back.

What was she doing?

Max wriggled her way out of Nathan's embrace and sat at the edge of the bed, staring at the distorted images in front of her. She rubbed her hands over her face sighing deeply. This was insane. She had completely lost any sense of control. She was in Nathan Prescott's room. In one of his t-shirts she realized. It hung loosely on her frame wafting Nathan's now familiar and intoxicating smell over her. This not even a day after that she had witnessed the murder of her best friend, been kidnapped and then exploited and sexually harassed by one of her favorite teachers, that Nathan just so happened to have been helping. Her stomach lurched at the realization and she turned her head to watch his sleeping form.

She couldn't bring herself to hate him anymore. Not after what they had been through. Not after what he had done to save her. There was just no way she could do that. Her eyes softened when she watched him sleep and she sighed. She knew what she had to do. Things couldn't stay this way not when she potentially could save Chloe. Her head scrambled for any ideas. Going back in time was the only option but she had never done it with such a long time span as this.

Her brain worked furiously to figure out a plan to save her best friend and in the meantime her hand absentmindedly combed through Nathan's soft hair. He sighed contently at her ministrations falling deeper into sleep. As Max watched Nathan's serene face with eyes clouded in thought it occurred to her.

She had saved William! Using the photo of her and Chloe she had gone back in time, much further than she needed now! She could do something similar again and she knew exactly which photo she could use.

Max smiled broadly and rushed over to her bag digging out the photo of her and Warren together, just outside the End of the World party. When she focused on it, the photo blurred and shook. She heard Warren's drunken voice echoing in her head and Chloe's annoyed complaining in the background.

Abruptly she let go of the photo adverting her eyes quickly. The voices and sounds of partying disappeared and she was once again hearing the soothing noises of whale song. She looked back over to the bed with Nathan's sleeping form in it. His arm was stretched out where her body had been, gripping the sheets lightly. His slow breathing and serene face was such a contrast to what she was used to see him like. Her stomach did that unnecessary and unwelcome flip that sent butterflies up her chest. The bastards clogged up her throat and made it hard to swallow. Not to mention how her chest tightened painfully and made it hard for her to breathe properly.

Max's gaze wandered between the photo between her knees and Nathan. She sighed frustrated with herself and her conflicting but most of all annoying feelings. She gripped her head between her hands and squeezed her eyes shut. This was not happening, it couldn't be. She was just overwhelmed with everything that had happened and Nathan's sudden acts of kindness. That was all. She knew who Nathan was and what he was, nothing could change that and nothing had.

Max chose to qualm and ignored the little voice in the back of her head that begged to differ. But even so her hand froze as she bent forward to pick the photo up. She sighed and rose to her feet. Swiftly but quietly she moved over to Nathan's desk, picked up a pen and went to grab a piece of paper. Her hand froze again and she found herself looking tentatively over her shoulder to once more stare at Nathan in his bed.

She shook her head and sighed irritably. This was ridiculous. He bottom lip was pressed between her teeth, brutalizing the tender flesh. Her eyes squeezed together as she continued to shake her head in disbelief and confusion. What the fuck was she thinking?

Her legs moved before her determined, yet nervous eyes snapped open and she quickly crossed the room over to the bed, grabbing her bag on the way. She rummaged through it and grabbed her trusty camera. As she climbed carefully into the bed she hesitated momentarily and felt her cheeks redden.

This was such a bad idea. No question about it. But she knew. She couldn't leave him without doing something, something that could potentially change his outcome in all of this too, even if she most likely would end up regretting this decision. It felt like the right thing to do.

She sighed and swallowed hard before she put her camera next to her and carefully lied back down next to Nathan, facing him. Her face burned hotly as she tentatively moved his arm over her hip again, thankful that he unconsciously reacted and pulled her closer. She licked her lips as she reached behind and grabbed her camera. His face was mere inches away and she felt his even breathe on her face. Her hands trembled slightly as she lifted her camera and with a mingled sense of excitement and terror she leaned closer, her head tilting and their lips brushed together. Her lips trembled at the sensation and her finger lingered on the release. Right when she pressed it Nathan's lips pressed harder against her. The arm around her hip moved to press and hold her smaller back, pressing her closer to his warm, firm body. She gasped and the shutter went off capturing the intimate moment.

It was over as soon as it happened. His arm relaxed, his lips slacked and the smallest of space was brought between them. Max breathed hard and shallow. Her face burning hot as she stared at Nathan's remarkably still sleeping face. She reluctantly wiggled her way out of his grasp and quickly gathered her camera and photo, rushing quietly over to the desk once more.

Her face blushed mortified as she viewed the selfie of her and Nathan. Her face was flushed, every freckle stood out prominently and her lips were plump and swollen. Her eyes were closed and her face was frozen in a shocked, delighted and embarrassingly enough aroused expression. Nathan's mouth was covering hers eagerly with slightly parted lips, the smallest hint of the tip of his tongue was seen caressing Max's lips. She felt her stomach coil together and she blushed harder when a small whimper left her lips. Just by looking at the picture made her into a flustered, aroused mess.

Max shook her head embarrassed and turned the photo around, scribbling a short message on the back. This had to do for now she thought as she scurried back over to Nathan's bedside. She, for the umpteenth time admired his face. Her eyes wandered over his arm and lingered on his calloused hand. She admired his long fingers and bony knuckles, the curves and pointy angles of his wrist.

She shook her head once more. Checking his face to make sure he slept, she carefully placed the selfie in the pocket of his jacket. She hoped that her limited knowledge of effects and remnants of time travel would suffice. Technically she figured that if she placed the selfie in Nathan's jacket he would find it in the past. At least that was her theory and she honestly didn't have any better.

Quickly she moved back over to the photo of her and Warren on the floor and kneeled down. Quickly before her brain and severely hormonal body did anything else she focused on the photo. Voices, partying, dulled music and Warren and Chloe's voices echoed in her head, the photo blurred and shook in her hands. She glanced shortly one last time over her shoulder, seeing Nathan's sleeping form before she was swept away by time and space.

The room went quiet, only a deeply asleep young man was left with his arm stretched out over his sheets. His jacket sprawled by his feet with an intimate photo in its pocket. A photo taken of a time that hadn't happened and yet it had. On the back of it there was a messy and hurriedly scribbled message from another time:

" _I don't hate you Nathan. I'm here for you, always! / Max"_

* * *

 _End_

Author's note: Hope you liked it!


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